


Hung

by Thotum



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest, M/M, Other, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 23:38:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13018626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thotum/pseuds/Thotum
Summary: Somebody was here; somebody was enjoying the entertainment; and nobody helped him.





	Hung

Panting and sweating, Morty woke up to pure blackness. The last thing he could remember was going upstairs to his bedroom and a dark apparition moved swiftly through him before he could react. But he heard someone running up the stairs hurriedly before he passed out. Who? Morty won't be able to find out so soon because he couldn't see anything which worried him the most. His main objective was to find out where the hell he was, then figure out who exactly put him here.

He moved his hands across his face frantically but everything seemed to still be imperceptible. His eyes had still not adjusted and he figured they weren't going to for a while. It was very cold inside the dark void of space that hung a dank stench in the air. 

The floor was moist and slimy as Morty then realized after he got up. His shoes suck to the syrupy floor after each step. He paced across the room aimlessly, bumping into objects that seemed to be lined up against something. 

Moving his hands against the furniture, he depicted, it stopped against a concrete wall. Maybe this wasn't some endless simulation. “Hello?” His warbling voice echoed inside the confined space. There was a flicker of light as it danced across from where he was standing. Some visible outlines from the dimly emitted light showed objects that seemed quite antiquated and odd as ancient machinery was stationed a couple feet away.

That's what those sharp objects were as Morty skimmed his hand across those weird gadgets. 

The prominent wound caught his eye suddenly as a wave of pain ushered it’s way towards his reverie. He preoccupied himself around his surroundings, blood pouring onto the ground without him realizing.

Continuing to move around with the candlestick in hand, Morty swore he heard a squelching noise right beside to him. The room could have secreted some hallucination gas before Morty woke up which could have explained his misconception. Earlier, he felt a faint suspicion of the apparition from before but as he turned it vanished. Returning his thoughts to the now, the sound was closer this time, but Morty was quick to shine the candle towards the noise.  
His fast reflexes withdrew the candlestick from the vibrant, purple, worm thing that slithered about.

“Gah!” Morty's high pitched yell seemed to have irritated whatever that worm was because it retreated into the darkness expeditiously. 

There was the sound of a scraping door closing shut with a resounding thud, but Morty was too slow to pinpoint the sound exactly. The number one thing to do was to remain calm. Hyperventilating was the worst and least thing to do in a situation like this, especially with a tentacle around. What did Rick teach Morty on one of their adventures again? If there's a tentacle... there's more.

“Rick?” As useless as calling Rick's name, even here, it'd be worth a try. This had to be one of his pranks...gone too far perhaps?

Or an elaborate scheme to test Morty and the things he could recall from their adventures. But what would you do if not just one, but a dozen tentacles were here? There was nothing that Rick usually didn't discuss much about. He must've said something about tentacles, but a typical anxious teenager never listens. Morty hated himself for even bringing Rick up, he was probably kidnapped and was going to be conducted on. Rick would never do that, would he? The thought provoked him in the need to find a way to escape. 

His dimly lit candle was not so helpful as he thought, wandering through the darkness slipping on something squishy.

Whatever is was it prolonged towards Morty's feet from the darkness, wrapping themselves tightly around his ankles and slowly crawling up his thighs, inch by inch. Morty tried batting it away, aiming his candlestick towards the curious tentacle, but it refused to detach itself. He could see that it extended further on until another tentacle appeared. 

“Rick!” Rick was the only person on Morty's mind that could've set this up. But why would he?

Morty dumbfoundedly dropped his candlestick as the tentacle curled itself around his upper thigh. “No, no, no!” Morty's objection to the tentacle was useless, these things aren't comprehensible, nor to light. The pressure it put on his thigh was enough for it to have that staticky feel of sleepiness. Blood flow was starting to be restricted, making Morty moan breathlessly for help.

A sudden clapping sounded off the walls and back to Morty’s ears. He shot his head up towards the direction of the sound. Somebody was here; somebody was enjoying the entertainment; and nobody helped him.

A scratchy voice touched Morty's earlobe. A tongue licked against his cheek. “Having fun, my sweeet boy?” This voice sounded too distinctly familiar to belong to someone he knew. 

“Rick? Please! Help me, I w-” Morty's mouth was filled with a garish colored tentacle. It's slime gushed out, overpowering Morty's capability to talk. His eyes rolled back unwillingly.

Rick tutted and growled, squeezing Morty's cheeks playfully. “You're fucking cute when you're held captive.” An aged finger skimmed his face to collect a tear from his cheek. 

There was still no way to see anything but the luminescent slime that painted the floor. The young boy squirmed, but failed as he was weighed down by the interested tentacles. They felt him up and down, caressing his stomach and navel. Rick's cock swelled as he unbuttoned his slacks. Rick was craving the view of Morty: his ass in the air, being fondled by the tentacles. Those whimpering noises coming off his lips almost made him smile.

The old man pressed a button on the controller he produced and less than a second lights flickered on. An array of lights lit up the large expanse of the room. The adolescent’s eyes widened, not because of the lights appearing, but the pressure he felt on his dick. A throaty laugh filled the air of sloshing and moaning. Morty felt the need to come any second and he'd regret it as soon as he did.

His grandfather matched his pace easily, precum dripping onto one of the tentacles he stood so closely over in admiration of Morty.

One black tentacle with intricate blue neon stripes slipped effortlessly into Morty's pants. Morty's eyes bulged and he sensed the next thing to come. It skimmed over his thighs and reached his ass with a needy force to plunge itself in. The warm liquid lubed his entrance, but before Rick could come he ripped the jeans off his grandson to fully view the process. 

“Why didn't I do this before? I never knew you were such a freak over this.” He emphasized loudly, spittle flying onto Morty’s body. 

The tentacle pressed against the boy's entrance which seemed too thick for Morty to handle or enjoy. With tentacles at his dick and one plunging into his mouth, he was sure to come but the tentacle wasn't inside yet. He was expecting it to usher it's was in but nothing came. Rick wasn't seen to be anywhere either.

The tentacles suspended into the air, lifting Morty up. His legs felt so weak, his knees wobbled, wanting to give up, but he was forced to bend over. 

The cold air greeted his ass, but footsteps were heard coming behind him. The warmth of the body moved against him with Rick's dick longing to fill Morty up. “My turn, Morty.” Morty could hear the smile in his grandpa's voice as he turned his head around to look at Rick. 

Tentacles continued to pump Morty, but he still had not come yet, like he was forced not to. Not that he wanted to anyway. “Can't you be still? You're about to f-fucking fall like a deer on ice.”

Morty hadn't noticed this, but he maintained his calmness and waited expectantly, afraid of the punishments Rick would perform on his already sore body. His grandpa squoze his ass apart until his pink flesh was in view. Rick licked his two bony and long fingers, reaching his entrance and pushing in with moxie. 

“Ohhhahh!” The boy convalesce quickly and grinded his ass against the fingers that filled his tight asshole. Whatever the change that Morty realized, he knew it was for the better good. Being scared would tense him up and the last thing he needed was to be hurt more. There was no need to be scared right now, Rick was his guardian. Morty smiled ruefully at his grandpa. 

“Oh? You think it's cute after being molested by tentacles? You're going to get fucked and you're still smiling.” Rick said gruffly. “I should’ve expected you to like it. Slut.” 

The harsh words didn't affect Morty until his fingers slipped out and was replaced with his yearning, dripping member. Morty forgot about the tentacles until they sped up, creating friction on his dick until he moaned loudly. “Yes, oh, please!” Rick picked up the pace until another tentacle smoothly filled his ass. It deftly moved rhythmically as another pair moved up his legs and fondled his balls. Rick thrusted into Morty faster as he groaned and grunted. He pulled onto his hips hard enough to bruise as his hot come discharged into his ass.

His dick thrusted lifelessly into his ass until he heard his grandson shudder. “Another time, babe? You liked it?” Morty hummed in approval.

Rick rolled his eyes as they wandered towards one of the tentacles in his ass. “Lemme fix this fucking mess first. I'll make it more mesmerizing, but in the meantime I've gotta deal with these...tentacles.” So many littered the floor while it percolated with their gooey substance. But Rick didn't clean any of the mess, just left Morty in his own goo as he closed his heavy eyelids, curling into a fetal position, flying into a more lost place without the eccentric atmosphere and slime.


End file.
